


Friends and Brothers

by SnowWhiteKnight



Series: Holidays [18]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Brothers, Childhood Friends, First Sunday in August, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Holidays, friendship day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-08-07 06:39:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7704331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowWhiteKnight/pseuds/SnowWhiteKnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bronn reminisces of when he first got to know Sandor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friends and Brothers

“How’s the shop doing?” Bronn asked, throwing back the last of his lemonade. They were early by about twenty minutes. He and Sandor were sitting at a cafe, waiting for Margaery and Sansa to arrive. Margaery had demanded to have a double date once she learned that her boyfriend’s brother was dating her best friend’s business neighbor.  _ Why she didn’t ask Brienne to have a girls’ night instead is beyond me. _ Not that he minded a double date. Sansa was pretty damn cool and made his brother extremely happy. Plus, he was able to poke fun at Sandor in front of Sansa, which was always entertaining.

“Doing ok. Got a shipment of Dornish spears coming in. Really old stuff. Not for sale. I’ve been asked to restore them.” Sandor was one of the top guys in the business for restoration of old weapons, and it wasn’t uncommon for museums or collectors to pay him for such services. It was half of his business, from what Bronn understood. “You?”

“You know, drifting from job to job, trying to find something that fits.” It was a running joke in the family that Bronn was a nomad or traveling sellsword in another life.

“As long as you make rent, man.” Sandor did tend to be practical in his thinking.

“As long as I don’t lose my easy access to Margie,” he joked. Sandor eyed him with scrutiny, as if he was trying to figure something out.

“I meant because you take pride in making your own way. You know Margaery’ll ask you to move in if it ever came to that though. Even if she didn’t, you can always move in with me.” 

“You’re just saying that because you’re my brother and Mom would kill you if you left me homeless.” He smirked at Sandor, who laughed.

“True. She would. But, before we were brothers, we were friends, and we still are. Even if you are an ass. That alone is why I won't let you go homeless.”

Bronn smiled, remembering their first week together at the foster home. Not Mom’s, the one before that. 

**********

Bronn had been a short kid. Sandor was newer to the home, but the bullies went for the easy target. Scrappy even at that age, Bronn managed to take on several of them, but there were too many. If Sandor hadn’t stepped in, things would have gone a lot worse.

Their foster father yelled at them, even though they weren’t the ones that started it, and it fell to them to perform first aid. 

“You didn’t have to help. I had everything under control,” he told Sandor, slapping a band-aid over a nasty looking cut. They were lucky that the foster home’s backyard bordered the park, and had taken the first aid kit and sat under one of the bigger trees.

“Oh, sure, I could tell. Right in the palm of your hand it was.” Sandor hadn’t even winced from the pain. “I didn’t  _ help _ you. I just don’t like bullies.”

“Oh. That’s ok then.” Bronn sat back, enjoying the feel of the rough bark against his back and the slight breeze ruffling his hair. He imagined that if he had a mom, a  _ real _ mom, she’d do something similar. Sandor was quiet. Bronn had noticed that the big burly kid tended to fade into the background. No one really messed with him, on account of how scary he looked, but Bronn didn’t think he was  _ that _ scary looking. Oh, those scars were no joke, of course, but the vibe he got off of him was more lonely and sad than mean and vicious. Bronn had been in the foster care system for a while now, and he had learned the difference between the good people, the bad people, and the downtrodden. Sandor definitely fell into the latter. Bronn didn’t know his story, didn’t intend to ask simply because he didn’t want to share his own. But...but...but he was nice to be around. He didn’t pick on Bronn like the other kids did. He would be handy to have around if another fight broke out, which was likely. Bronn did have a bit of a mouth on him, afterall. And there was something about him, a kinship. Just like that, Bronn decided to be friends with him.

“Wanna go see if Mrs. Calman needs chores done? She’s old, but super nice. Gives me cookies for a job well done, and some pocket money. Big kid like you, I’m sure you could do some heavy lifting for her. She’s always telling me to bring other people, but no one else is interested.”

Sandor thought about it. “Yeah, sure. Why not?”

**********

“Yeah,” Bronn said, bringing himself back to the present. “We have been friends a long time. Hell, I’d even call us best friends. You’re the Toothless to my Hiccup. The GIR to my Zim. The Lee Christmas to my Barney Stone.”

Sandor snorted. “No shit, Sherlock. But it’s more like Hiccup and Fishlegs. I'm not your damned dragon.” Bronn just grinned and waved to the girls, who had just come in.

**Author's Note:**

> Bronn and Sandor are my favorite bromance. :)


End file.
